The Call Of Steel
by Sethoz
Summary: You think you know, but do you really? Are your friends ok? Or do they pretend? Trip is not as carefree as everyone thought and he's being to crack. Can his friends help him or will he be lost forever? -Last Part Up!-
1. Bitter Tears

Disclaimer: Welcome to my newest fic, "The Call Of Steel." It's very Angst filled and there is some mention of people cutting themselves and child abuse. In other words, it's not the sort of story you read if you want a laugh. The title of the story was taken from the poem "The Call of Steel" by Mlaa, who writes on Fanfiction.net. If you look under my fav stories link you will be able to see the whole set of poems this is taken from. The bits of poetry in this story are from "The Call Of Steel."  
Thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me   
borrow her poem.  
  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
  
Part 1:- Bitter Tears   
  
  
~ ...listless...  
anger  
...floating...  
sad  
...calm....   
anger   
the call of steel.   
of flesh to steel.   
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
  
~ 20 Years Before Enterprise ~   
  
"A B-! You call that a decent grade, boy?" roared the man, bending over his terrified son. "You're 11 years old, it's time you started to get proper grades! You'll never be a scientist at this rate!"  
  
"B-but father... I don't want to be a scientist." the young boy said softly, clearly afraid of the monster in front of him.  
  
"Don't you dare talk back to me!" his father screamed. He slipped off his belt and held it in his left hand. "Look what you've made me do. Now I have to punish you." The boys eye's widened as he backed away.  
  
"Pl-please, don't." he begged, his gaze fixed on the belt.   
  
"Now Son, don't beg, you know how much I hate begging, don't you," the man said, his words   
slurring together. "I'll have to punish you a bit more for that." he finished and with one movement raised the belt above his head and brought it down on his sons back. The boy bit back the scream that tried to escape, knowing that a scream would only cause more punishment.   
  
For 10 minutes the drunk man rained hits on his child, screaming as he did so. Then he simply  
stopped, took his belt and left. It was only after the man had left that the boy pushed his face into his pillow and let bitter tears rain down on it.  
  
It was the middle of the night when he first heard it. With a gasp he sat up and flicked on his light. There stood his father looking down at his son in disgust.  
  
"I heard you crying boy." he said slowly. "You're a Tucker and Tuckers don't cry." with that the beating began again, with Charles Tucker III trieing to shield his face from most of the blows...  
  
~ 20 Years Later ~  
  
"See you tomorrow, Commander," Malcolm Reed said.  
  
"See ya tomorrow Malcolm and I like I said before, call me Trip." Trip replied, a smile on his face.  
  
"If you don't mind my asking... why are you called Trip? Why not Charles?" Malcolm asked. Trip froze at this innocent question. He shrugged his shoulders.   
  
"I dunno, just like Trip better. Well, I better be off." he said quickly, and the next second, he was gone. Malcolm raised his eyebrow in confusion then walked off, towards his quarters. Inside his room Trip gave a small sigh of relief. For a second there he had almost blown it. He slowly moved over to the mirror and peered in it. With a snort he yanked open a drawer and pulled out a knife. He slowly placed the blade on his arm and pulled. The warm blood began to surface, bubbling as it did so. The rich, tangy iron scent filled Trip's nostrils as he gazed at the cut. His face was empty of all expression as he cut his arm again and again. It was only after he placed the knife back into the drawer that it came from that he took a proper look at what he had done. Carved into his arm was the word "Dad". He pushed his sleeve back down onto his arm and moved towards his bed, unaware of the news that was heading his way. A piece of news that would change Trip, change the way everyone thought of him and change his life... forever.   
  
TBC... 


	2. Think About Him

Happy Halloween!!!  
Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise. Pure and simple. Got that? Good. As I said before this is filled with Angst. There is mention of lots of nasty things such as child abuse and cutting. This part is really an extion of part 1, the story really starts in part 3. The title and parts of poem in   
this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." Thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem.   
  
This part is for "GhostWriter25". I got the next part up before the weekend! :)   
  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
  
Part 2:- Think About Him.  
  
  
~ warmth  
itchy   
cut   
blood trickling out   
people are scared of what I do.   
not me   
its my way of dealing .   
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
  
Trip tossed and turned in his sleep, caught in a feverish nightmare. The cuts on his arm had closed and were now a dull red. The tossing became more violent and sounds began to come out of his mouth.   
  
"No... Da... NO!" with a scream he bolted upright, his heart beating so hard it felt as if it would   
explode. His breathing slowly calmed down as he gazed around the room. It fell on a photo of him and Archer. Trip climbed out of his bed and picked it up. His gaze became fixed on the photo yet he didn't seem to be really looking at it.  
  
~8 Years Previously~  
  
The second Jon Archer saw the young man he knew he was scared. Of what Archer didn't know but with out a doubt the young man was scared of something. He hid it well, by trying to be the joker of the group, yet under the mask he wore Archer could see the pain and fear that lurked. Admiral Forrest turned to Archer.  
  
"Has anyone caught your eye?" he asked. The two of them were watching a group of Starfleet trained engineers without the trainees being aware of the fact. Archer nodded his eyes fixed on the blond haired youth that had caught his eye.   
  
"These are the best Starfleet has. I said you could chose one of them to help work on the engine and I mean it... so which one is it?" Forrest asked. Archer pointed at the young man, working on a warp reactor model. Forrest gave a knowing smile.   
  
"Ah, Mr. Tucker. I had a feeling he would catch your eye."  
  
"What's his story?" Archer asked.   
  
"His name is Charles 'Trip' Tucker III. He won't answer to Charles as that's his dad's name. The name Trip stuck. He is one of the best we have and his record is outstanding... except for one   
incident. If it wasn't for the fact his record before then was clean and it was partly in self-defense he would have been kicked out of Starfleet." Forrest finished.  
  
"What did he do?" Archer said, the curiosity leaking into his voice without meaning to.  
  
"He was attacked on the way to his dorm... When the officials got there, Tucker had beat his attackers into a bloody pulp. According to eyewitnesses he went mental and began to pound on the three blokes who jumped him. It took five men to get him to stop. The men who attacked him were in comas for weeks."  
  
"That one kid, beat up three men?" Archer asked in amassment. Forrest nodded grimly.  
  
"Mr. Tucker is one of the best there is. If you can find out what's going on in that head of his he'll be even better." Forrest said. Archer nodded.  
  
"He can work on the project." Admiral Forrest left the room, leaving Archer watching the rest of the lesson. Yet his eyes continued to stray back onto the man known as "Trip".  
  
~Present Day~  
  
Trip gasped and woke up, his hand instantly moving to his face to try and protect it. When no attack happened he slowly lowed his arm and looked around his room. He could feel the presser, the anger beging to build up in him, he had to let it out. He pulled himself out of bed and moved over to his cuboard.   
  
"Sharp... need something sharp... Come on!" Trip yelled in frustration. His groping fingers curled themselves round the edge of a razor. He pulled it out and started at the blades, admiring the way the light bouched off the blade, creating pretty rainbow patterns on the walls. Cutting, letting the blood escape was a way to let out of the built up tension Trip had, but it wasn't the only reason he did it. The simple act of drawing a blade across his arm and watching the blood trickle out, waiting as drops fell to the floor, made Trip feel alive. It was one of the few times he felt alive these days. Every day it was harder to get up, every day the thought of just pulling the blade across his wrist, of just ending it all was more and more tempting. However Trip wasn't ready to go that far... yet.  
  
~8 Years Previously~  
  
Trip stared around his new workplace with delight. For the first time in months he didn't feel the darkness that weighed down his soul, with taunts and yells all in the voice of his father.  
  
"Mr. Tucker is it?" A voice asked. Trip turned to see an older man looking at him.  
  
"My name is Jon Archer." Trip gave a small smile and held out his hand.  
  
"Pleased to meet you." Archer grinned and took the hand.  
  
"Let's get to work." he said. The two moved towards something that one day would power the Enterprise and everyone's hopes.  
  
~Present Day~  
  
The news that would change Trip's very life was growing closer and closer with each passing moment. Trip was blissfully unaware that the bombshell would bring up all his fears and make him face them in a way he never thought possible...   
  
TBC...   
  
Please now you've read, review! Writers will die without them!   
GhostWriter25, now I've put this part up please, please put up the next part of your story! 


	3. You'll Never Know

Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise. Also this story deals with self-harm and abuse so if you don't want to read a story like that I suggest you read something else. There all done! Sorry this took so long to write, it's really very draining to write this story. The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." Thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem.  
  
  
The Call Of Steel  
  
  
Part 3:- You'll Never Know  
  
  
~ My escape.   
Can forget about the world.   
Want to forget life for a while.   
Angry.   
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
  
Trip rolled over on his bed. His journey to wakefulness was a slow process. He yawned and stretched, his gaze moving lazily around. As he climbed out of bed, he glanced down at the word carved on his arm. He gave a small snort as he began to get dressed, thinking back to the first time he had cut himself...  
  
~Flashback~   
  
Trip stormed into his room muttering under his breath as he did so.   
  
"Who does he think he is? I'm a grown man, he can't just force me around!" he yelled to the empty room. He pulled out a data pad from his bag and stared at it. The few words on this pad were the spark to the huge slanging match he and his father had just had.   
  
"He can't control me." Trip told the quiet room. "If I want to go on Enterprise then it's up to me." The walls didn't answer as Trip stared at them.   
  
"He can't control me God damn it!" he screamed. He swung his arm around, hitting a glass.  
It went flying and smashed into the ground. Trip didn't seem to notice as he buried his head in his arms, sobs shaking his body. For a minute or two he remained like that then his head shot up. He gazed at the broken glass, his eyes wide. With trembling fingers he reached out and picked up a large shard of glass. He lifted the piece up and brought it down sharply against  
his shoulder. He let out a started gasp and placed his finger on his shoulder. When he removed it the was blood on it. What had started Trip hadn't been the pain, the blood or anything like that. It had been the fact that he had enjoyed the the rush he felt as the blood spurted out. It had felt...   
exhilarating.  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
"Lieutenant Reed to Commander Tucker." came Malcolm's comm voice. Trip jumped, shaken from his thoughts of the past. He moved over to the comm system.  
  
"Tucker here. What can I do for you, Malcolm?"  
  
"Trip, I've got a problem up here. Could you come and have a look at it?" he asked.  
Trip smiled.   
  
"Sure thing Malcolm, I'll be there in a minute." He cast one last look around his room, making sure nothing looked out of the ordinary then left.   
  
A few minutes later he arrived on the bridge, smiling and acting normal.  
  
"So, Malcolm, what's the problem?" he asked, a grin on his face. If someone had looked deep into his eyes they would have seen the grin didn't quite reach his face and the terrible pain that nestled in the very center of his eyes. But no one looked, so no one saw.  
  
"It's just... I keep getting this weird ghost reading." Malcolm said, a slight frown on his face.  
  
"I can- Trip, you're bleeding!" he yelled, pointing a dark stain on Trip's sleeve. Trip stared at it, frantically trying to keep calm.  
"Yeah... I slipped over yesterday and accidentally cut myself." Trip muttered, his face going red. Malcolm started at him for a few seconds then shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Shouldn't you have told the doctor?" he asked. Trip shook his head.   
  
"There was no point, it's only a little scratch." Trip said. "So where's this 'ghost' of yours?" he asked, clearly trying to change the subject. Malcolm turned back to his screen, his mind once  
again taken up by the problem.  
  
~@~  
  
A hour or two later and Trip was being to get annyoyed. He couldn't seem to find out where this 'ghost' was.   
  
"Damnit!" he muttered, hitting the console with his fist. Hoshi, startled, looked up from her work. She had never really seen Trip act like this. He had always regarded an unsolved problem as a fun challenge. Once Trip had stayed up for a whole week with out sleep just to try and work out how Porthos always managed to escape from the Captain's room. He never did work it out but had enjoyed trying to all the same.   
Yet now... there was something wrong with Trip, Hoshi could feel it. She looked at him, unable to deiced with or not to try to talk to him when the Captain entered the bridge.  
  
"Trip." There was something in the way he said it that made Trip look up. His gaze asked a question and with a sudden spams of fear he wondered what Archer had to tell him.   
  
"Could you come to my ready room?" he asked quietly. Without a word Trip followed him. Inside Archer's room he stood there.  
  
"Cap'n?" Trip asked. "What is it?"  
  
"Trip..." Archer began. "I've got some news..."  
  
  
TBC...   
  
Please read and review! Please!!!! I'll give you all cookies! :) 


	4. God's Tears

Disclaimer: Here ya all go part four! Things really start to heat up in this part. **warning** It's very Angst filled and there is some mention of people cutting themselves and child abuse. So if you don't want to read this sort of story, I'm warning you all now. The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." Thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula"  
as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem.  
  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
  
Part 4:- God's Tears  
  
~ The need to break something  
The need to destroy  
The need to hurt someone.  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
  
~ 20 Years Before Enterprise ~  
  
Charlie Tucker lay curled up on his bed fighting back the tears that threatened to engulf him.  
  
"I won't cry... I won't!" he muttered to himself, the fear of another beating like the one yesterday clearly showing in his shaky voice. His room was in darkness, which he found oddly comforting. Unlike others, he knew that the night was his friend and not to be feared.  
  
"Charlie?" The whisper came softly through the air towards him. Charlie froze, but the next second he relaxed, recognizing his mother's voice. She came forward, nearing his bed, her bright blue eyes a startling contrast to her raven hair.  
  
"Charlie, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." he sniffed, turning his back on her.  
  
"Charlie." his mother said, her voice gentle, yet commanding, "tell me." She reached out and cupped Charlie's face with her hand. Charlie turned and faced her, reveling the full blunt of his beating. His mother gave a sharp hiss as she examined his face.It was littered with bruises and a large black eye was forming under his left eye.  
  
"Did he do this?" she asked. There was no need to say who 'he' was, they both knew. The look on her son's face was all the answer Tori Tucker needed. She gave a sad sigh and hugged Charlie.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." she muttered, rocking him back and forth. There was no talk of leaving Charles Tucker II or telling anyone, ever. They both knew that would be suicide.  
  
"M-mom." Charlie sobbed, letting tears fall, despite his best efforts.  
  
"Don't cry Charlie." his mother said, her own eyes getting misty. "That's God's job."  
  
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, his eyes bright. Tori gave him a sweet, sad smile.  
  
"Every time someone is sad, it makes God sad. Every time someone is hurt or upset, God cries because his children are in pain. That's what rain is." Tori finished. Charlie looked confused.  
  
"But sometimes I'm sad but there's no rain."  
  
"God is everywhere, child. He cries where his tears are most needed." Charlie gave a nod to show he understood, then buried his face in her top. A faint sound came to Tori's ears. She looked around trying to locate the source of the sound. Outside, falling softly was rain. She looked down at her son, painfully aware that he had to grow up much faster than any child should have to, in an effort to survive. Charlie gave a loud sob.  
  
"Shush," his mother whispered, rocking him gently. "Can you hear? God is crying."  
  
~20 Years Later~  
  
Trip blundered out of the Captain's ready room, swaying slightly. He ran towards the lift. Trip panted slightly, feeling hot and cold at the same time.  
  
//It can't be true!\\ Trip thought, his vision temporally out of focus. The lift doors opened with a hiss and Trip stumbled in. As they closed Trip half saw Archer run out of the room. He was saying something but Trip couldn't seem to hear the words. The lift doors closed and Trip sank to the floor, his legs unable to support his weight anymore. On the bridge Archer stared at the closed doors, where a second ago the tortured face of his best friend had stared at him.  
  
"Captain?" Malcolm asked uncertainly. "Do you want someone to go after him?" Malcolm was never destined to know what Archer's reply would have been, for at that moment a blast of some kind hit Enterprise.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Archer roared, all thoughts of Trip pushed out of his head.  
  
"It appeared to be some form of weapons blast!" Malcolm yelled, franticly trying to arm the weapons.  
  
"I can detect a ship off our port bow, Captain." Travis said.  
  
"Hail them, ask them why they are attacking us." Archer commanded. Hoshi nodded, her face grim.  
  
On a lower deck of Enterprise Trip walked, lost in his own thoughts. He hadn't felt the blast hit the ship or heard the calls from Engineering, calling for him. He walked morosely into his quarters, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers, trying to will away the tears. With a sigh he moved over to his mirror ad stared at his reflection. With a yell of pure fury he swung his fist back and punched the mirror, shattering it into tiny pieces. He slid down the wall, his head in his arms, sobbing loudly.  
  
"No..." he said. He raised a tear stained face and gazed out at the stars.  
  
"Is God crying mummy?" he asked in a child-like voice. "Is he crying?" Without thinking about it he grasped a piece of glass and brought down on his arm. Instead of the familiar feeling of escape it usually brought, all he felt was emptiness. He watched the blood slowly soak through his clothes, wondering why he felt nothing.  
  
"You see?" a voice hissed out of the darkness. "You can't even do that properly!" Trip looked into the darkness.  
  
"You're not here." he called uncertainly. "you're not here, Dad." Only the silence answered him. Trip pushed himself up and walked into his main room, still holding the piece of glass. He was holding it so tightly in his fist that blood began to dribble out. He opened his fist and stared at the blood stained chunk of glass. With his un-injured hand he lifted his top, his eyes blank the whole time. With a slight gasp he brought the sharp point down on his chest. The blood came  
rushing out and Trip gave the faintest of smiles as the wonderful feelings came rushing to him.  
  
"You think that will solve anything boy?" his dad's voice spoke again. Trip shook his head.  
  
"No... you're not here, so get out of my head!" he muttered, clucking at his blond hair.  
  
"I'm coming... remember what the 'Cap'n' said?" the voice said mockly.  
  
"Shut up!" Trip screamed, his thoughts unwilling going back to the news Archer had told him.  
  
~Flashback~  
  
"Cap'n?" Trip asked. "What is it?"  
  
"Trip..." Archer began. "I've got some news..." he paused and ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
"Okay, Cap'n, you're starting to scare me." Trip joked, trying to ignore the cold feeling that was running through his vains.  
  
"It's about... Trip it's about your dad." Archer blurted out. Trip froze, his back to Archer.  
  
"What about him?" Trip asked coldly, his face a mass of panic. Archer couldn't see that though.  
  
"He's sick." Archer said bluntly. "Trip... they say he's dying..."  
  
"Dying?" Trip said shocked.  
  
//He's going to die?\\  
  
"I just got the call... it's cancer. That's not all Trip." Archer stopped again. Trip turned to face him.  
  
"What else?" he asked.  
  
"He wants to see you... Trip, the Vulcans are bringing him, he'll be here in a day or two."  
  
"What?! No!" Trip yelled. Archer blinked, this had not been the response he had been expecting.  
  
"Look, I know you and he don't really get on..." Archer started. Trip gave a small laugh and shook his head.  
  
"You have no idea." he muttered. Archer frowned.  
  
"So tell me." he commanded. Trip gave Archer an agonized look then darted for the door...  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
Trip shook his head, still unable to believe what Archer had told him. He looked up at the ceiling. The tears falling down on his face went unnoticed as he traced a pattern with the glass in his chest. He gave a tiny sob then spoke in a child-like voice.  
  
"Is God crying?"  
  
TBC...  
  
Well, we know at last... Poor Trip's getting worse! Anyway thanks to "(well, you didn't leave a name... )" who gave me a hint about where people cut themselves.  
Also....  
I won't be updating this for about two weeks. Why, I hear you ask? Well, it's really quite simple. I have exams for that period and have to really focus on that.   
Sorry!  
  
Sethoz-Chan. 


	5. Truth is a Whisper

Disclaimer: Well, my exams are over at last! I've been going slightly mental over lack of writing but I'm back!!!! Lots of angst etc. in this part: you all have been warned!  
The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." Thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem.  
  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
  
Part 5:- Truth is a Whisper  
  
  
~ Private person.  
Like a brimming bottle,  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
  
Beep. "Archer to Commander Tucker. Come in Trip...."  
  
Beep. "Trip, for Gods sake answer!"  
  
Beep. "Trip If you don't come out I'll break the door down!"  
  
Beep. "Come on Trip, talk to me!"  
  
Beep. "Please."  
  
"Jon." The word was so softly spoken that for a split second Archer wasn't sure he heard it. Trip never called him Jon anymore; the word 'Cap'n' had become a treasured nickname between the two. Yet it was Trip who stood by his now open door. Archer regarded his friend. Trip looked terrible. His hair was all messed up and his eyes were blood shot. Archer didn't know for sure but he had a pretty good idea of how much sleep Trip had gotten- None.  
  
"Trip? You okay?" The question was a stupid one, but Archer had no idea what to say.  
  
"I'm fine." Trip answered. Archer gave a short laugh.  
  
"You really don't look it." he replayed, then instantly wished he hadn't as Trip tensed up.  
  
"Look, Cap'n first you told me my Dad's dying, then that's he coming over to Enterprise and THEN you told me to have a holiday until he gets here, so I can't even concentrate on my work now!" Trip's voice had steadily increased in volume until the last words had been a scream. He turned away from Archer and squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
"When will he get here?" Trip asked. Archer looked down at the floor.  
  
"In two hours..." Archer mummerd. He looked everywhere but Trip's face. "The Vulcan ship will be here in two hours."  
  
"Oh." Trip sagged against the door frame unable to process what Archer was saying. His mind went blank and and desperately hunted for something else to say.  
  
"Did you find out who was shooting at us?" He muttered. Archer shook his head.  
  
"They fired on us twice. When we hit then they took off. Haven't been back."  
  
"That's good... Look Cap'n I got to go, I want to get all cleaned up before my dad gets here." Trip said softly. Archer nodded in agreement and Trip walked back into his room, closing the door. Archer frowned, there was something wrong about Trip. He seemed... broken as if something inside of him had just snapped.  
  
"Trip..." he murmured, resting his head against the cool door. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong? Why won't you let me help you?"  
  
Inside Trip's room, Trip sat slumped against the door, listening to Archer. He wanted until Archer had given a sigh then walked off before letting go of a breath he didn't know he had been holding.  
  
"I'm sorry Cap'n... I just can't. You can't help me. Not with this." he pushed himself up and moved over to his shower. His shaking hand reached around the silver knob and turned on  
the shower. He turned it hotter and hotter trying to gain some warmth in his numb body.  
He let the hot drops cascade down on him. It was quite a while later when Trip first noticed it.   
  
Afterwards had a hard time of remembering when he had first seen the clear drops of water change to a dull red. They rained down on him, staining his skin. Trip gave a small gasp as his eyes flickered around trying to work out where the red color was coming from. He shut his eyes and began to cry letting the red mix with his tear drops giving him the appearance of blood tears. When he opened his eyes again the red was gone, as if it was never there. He turned off the shower with one sudden movement and stared hard at the area. There was not a single spot of red anywhere.  
  
"Archer to Trip." Archer's voice came through the comm shaking his thoughts back to the here and now.  
  
"Yeah Cap'n?" he asked, his voice sounding rough.  
  
"Trip... the Vulcan ship is here. They're sending a shuttle over now. Meet me in docking bay two in five minutes." Archer said then the line went dead. Trip gave a sigh and walked over to his desk intent on picking up a data pad. There on the top of the desk was a snake. Trip paused and blinked hard. He shut his eyes and mentally counted to ten. When he opened them the snake was still there.  
  
"No." he muttered to himself, his voice slightly shaking. He shut his eyes again as by not seeing the snake it meant the snake wasn't there.  
When he opened his eyes the snake was gone.  
  
~@~  
  
Archer stood by the doors of docking bay two waiting for Trip.  
  
"Come on..." he muttered to himself. At that moment Trip hurried into view, his hands nervously trying to flatten his hair.  
  
"Cap'n." he said quietly.  
  
"The ships docking now. Come on Trip." Archer said, his voice quiet, unsure of what to say. Trip simply nodded, his vocal cords seemed unable to function properly. They walked into the bay and watched as the doors to the Vulcan shuttle slowly began to open. A male Vulcan walked out and gave Archer and Trip a small bow. Then Charles Tucker came down the ramp. Archer wasn't sure what he was expecting, someone who looked like Trip, with Trip's smile perhaps. Instead he was confronted by a skinny looking man in a wheelchair. He had the same blond hair as Trip's, but it was there that the similarities ended. The man looked up at Trip  
and smiled. For some reason Archer's blood ran cold. It hadn't been a pleasant smile, more of a   
predator's smile, evil and cold. Archer shook himself.  
  
//Oh come on Jon, get a hold of yourself! This is TRIP'S dad you're thinking about!\\  
  
"Father." Trip said politely.  
  
"Charlie! My boy how are you?" Charles asked. Trip gave a weak smile.  
  
"I'm good, father." Archer watched the extange going on in front of him with a slight frown on his face. This... coldness he was sensing coming from Trip was unnatural. It wasn't like Trip at all to be like this to anyone, least of all his own dad. Charles Tucker gave a thin smile as Trip moved behind him and grasped the handles of his wheelchair. Charles looked at Archer.  
  
"You must be Captain Archer. Charlie has told me so much about you."  
  
"All good I trust." Archer said. Charles laughed, then began to cough. He waved away any attempts of assientce and slowly stopped.  
  
"I apologize Captain, I am not as well as I used to be. May I be taken to my room? I would like to have the chance to catch up with my son and hear what has been going on."  
  
"Of course Mr. Tucker. This way." Archer said, leading them out of the landing bay.  
Yet one image remained stuck in his mind no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. When his dad had been coughing Trip had simply stood there without making the slightest move to help.  
  
~@~  
  
Outside the room they had prepared for Charles Tucker, Archer quickly said his goodbyes and walked off. There was something... off about Charles Tucker II, Archer could feel it in his bones. He walked into his ready room and sat down. With a slight hesitation he turned on his computer and hovered his fingers over the buttons. He pressed down on one and a screen popped up. It showed Trip and his dad sitting opposite each other. Archer gave a small smile, thankful that Malcolm had installed the cameras everywhere.  
  
//What are you doing, Jon?\\ part of him screamed. //Trip's your friend and you're spying on him!\\ The stronger part of him overpowered the voice, determined to find out once and for all what was wrong with Trip. His eyes focused on the drama that was playing out in front of him.  
  
"What's wrong, Charlie?" asked Charles. Trip shock his head and looked away. The older man narrowed his eyes.  
  
"I asked you a question boy! And when I ask I expect an answer!" He roared. Trip flinched.  
  
"Nothing's wrong... sir." he said dully. Charles smiled.  
  
"Good. No more of that father nonsense. Call me sir."  
  
"Yes Sir." Archer watched this all with growing horror. Something was very wrong here.  
  
"Now... why haven't you called?" Trip stared at the... thing in front of him, the thing that made his life a living hell. Something inside of him broke as he looked at his father.  
  
"I never called because of you... Sir." he spat out. Charles looked at him in a rage.  
  
"Slince boy! I will have respect from you!" The man's voice dropped as he glared at his son. "or else you will have to have another... lesson." Trip froze and started at his father in fear. The older man gave a smirk and pressed home his advantage.  
  
"That's right. Another lesson seems to be in order here." he hissed. Trip shut his eyes.  
  
"No. I'll... I'll tell the cap'n." Charles burst out laughing.  
  
"You really think he cares? He won't believe you. After all you're just a dirty whore. Why would anyone believe you?"  
Archer turned the computer off, his mind frozen.  
  
//A dirty whore ? B-but how would his dad know unless... no... no, no one would do that to there own son... would they?\\  
  
TBC...  
  
There you have it, please read and review!   
  
Trip the Cyber-Lamb: Okay, Raven, A cyber-Lamb is my little pet lamb who lives in cyber-land (and just my head.) He's very cute!!   
  
Till next time,  
  
Sethoz-Chan. 


	6. Gurth Dûr, Gurth Mor

Disclaimer: Lots of angst, etc. in this part: you have all been warned! The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." Thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem. I own nothing, bar the plot.  
  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
  
Part 6:- Gurth Dûr, Gurth Mor.  
  
  
~ the anger builds up.  
and overflows.  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
  
Archer wandered aimlessly through his ship, his mind frozen in denial.  
  
//No, no, no, no, no.\\ his mind repeated. //No, no, no!\\ He  
ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. Although he hated to even think about what Charles the Second had said, he had to admit that it did explain a lot.  
  
//All those times Trip visited his family, then came home with bruises and I never saw. Every time he would fall asleep working on the engine with me and my dad, only to wake a hour or so later screaming his head off and I never guessed, never even had the faintest idea. What sort of a friend am I?\\  
  
**Flashback**  
  
"Hi Trip, how was your weekend with your parents?" Jon asked, his mind fully focused on the task in front of him. His young friend jumped and shot Jon a guilty glance. He had tried to sneak past Jon, but as usual he had been caught. Jon Archer half turned from his work, a slight grin on his face.  
  
"You'll never guess wh- Trip, what happened to your face?" Archer asked. Trip's hand flew to his face.  
  
"Oh. This. I... got kicked in the face by a horse." Trip muttered, his face turning an ugly shade of red. It sounded wildly implausible, even to him.  
  
"Tell me the truth Trip." Archer said. There was a pause as Trip simply stared at him.  
  
"I was joking Trip."Archer laughed.  
  
"Oh, right." Trip said with a tight smile. He carried on walking, his face perfectly frozen in an unreadable expression. He raised his hand to his face and traced the mark left there. It was vaguely in the shape of a handprint.  
  
**End Flashback**  
  
Archer brought himself back to the present and looked around. There was no one working anywhere near him and he had the strangest feeling of being the only one on the ship, 'The last man'.  
  
"Stop it Jon." he muttered. He turned a corner and found himself, again in a deserted part of the ship. He gave a little start as he realized he was standing just five feet away from Charles Tucker's room.  
  
"Well, this way I can get some answers." Archer said out loud. He walked up to the metal door and knocked on it. There was no answer. He knocked again, louder in case Charles Sr. had fallen asleep.  
  
"Computer, open door." Archer commanded. The door beeped, then with a hiss, slid open. The room inside was in darkness. Sitting in a chair, facing away from the door was Charles Tucker II, slumped over, asleep. Archer moved over to the chair and placed his hand on Charles' shoulder. He spun the chair around, an angry look on his face. The look of anger faded from his face as he stared at the man in front of him. Slowly the look on his face was replaced by horror. As if in a dream he reached forward and placed his hand under Charles chin. He gently lifted the face and stared for a few seconds into the wide glassy eyes.   
  
Charles Tucker II was dead.  
  
~@~  
  
Dr. Phlox looked up from the body, his normally happy expression replaced by a look Archer didn't instantly recognize. It took a second or two for him to release the Doctor looked angry.  
  
"From what I can tell he suffocated." Dr. Phlox said. Archer pressed his fingers to his forehead and began to massage himself, his eyes closed.  
  
"How?" It was a simple, one syllable question, yet Archer had a feeling the answer would be anything but simple. He was right.  
  
"I don't know. His lungs could have failed, he could have had a heart attack which stopped him breathing, his cancer could have killed him, he could... he could have killed himself... or..."  
  
"... Someone could have done it for him?" Archer asked grimly. Dr. Phlox nodded, his eyes troubled.  
  
"I believe that in your world, 'euthanasia' as you call it, is still illegal?" Phlox asked delicately. Archer spun round and took a step towards him.  
  
"Are you suggesting that Trip had anything to do with this?He knows better, he would never... he would never do this."  
  
"I did not mention the Commander, Captain, however he is the only person on this ship that knew Charles Tucker in any way. Also, this is his father, it is altogether possible that he wanted to help him?"  
  
"I'm going to see him..." Archer announced. Dr. Phlox shook his head.  
  
"As ship's doctor don't you think I should be the one who tells him?"  
  
"Dammit! He doesn't even know his dad is dead! As his Captain, and his friend, it should be me who breaks the news to him." The two looked at each other, a silent battle of wills, as they each tried to get their own way. It was Dr. Phlox, in the end who gave in.  
  
"Very well." The two gave each other a last look then turned and set off in different directions. Archer walked along, a nasty thought lurking in his mind. A single word, that no matter how hard he tried to push away would just come back.  
  
//Murder...\\  
  
~@~  
  
"Come in" Trip called, after hearing a knock. Archer opened and surveyed the mess that was all over the floor in front of him. Trip was in the middle of it. He was half buried, searching through the mess, which looked like a war zone- or a teenager's bedroom. Archer gingerly stepped forward, towards Trip who was still looking through all the mess, humming 'Wind Beneath my Wings', a small enigmatic smile lingering on his face.  
  
"What can I do for you Cap'n?" he asked, the smile still there. He glanced around his room.  
  
"Sorry about the mess. I'm looking for something for my dad... Cap'n what is it? What's wrong?" He asked, the smile vanishing. He dug himself out and moved over to Archer. Archer looked at Trip, tears trying to engulf him. Trip reached Archer and lead him over to his bed.  
  
"Cap'n? What's wrong?" Trip asked again, his voice full of concern.  
  
"T-Trip..." Archer began. Part of him, the selfish part, wished he could just walk out of the room and let the Doctor tell Trip. But he didn't.  
  
"Trip, I've got something to tell you... why don't you sit down?" Archer said. Trip gave Archer an odd look.  
  
"I am sitting down Cap'n."  
  
"Oh, right. Good. Trip... God, I don't know how to say this..." Archer trailed off.  
  
"It's my dad, isn't it?" Trip asked, his voice high, as he stared at Archer. "Something's happened to my dad." Archer gazed sorrowfully into Trip's eyes.  
  
"No." Trip jumped up and shook his head. "No, no, no, no!"  
  
"I'm sorry Trip." Archer said softly. "Your dad's dead. I'm so sorry Trip." He reached forward and placed his hand on Trip shoulder.  
  
"Don't touch me!" Trip yelled, jerking away from Archer. He turned away from Archer, tears running down his face. "Don't t-touch me. I want to be on my own."  
  
"Trip..." Archer began, feeling more helpless by the second. Trip spun back round to face Archer, his eyes bright, the tears having made a path all the way down his face.  
  
"I said get out!" He screamed, before erupting into loud sobs. Archer paused for a second then simply turned and walked out of the room. Trip stumbled towards the door and pushed it shut. He slid down, the sobs echoing in the empty room. He buried his face in his hands, his voice fading away. The shaking in his shoulders increased, yet there was no sound. He slowly raised his face, the tears gone. The shaking carried on however as he slightly laughed to himself. A smile curled up on his lips as a single gleeful laugh escaped his mouth.  
  
TBC...  
  
  
  
*Evil laugh* There you have it, the sixth part of 'The call of Steel'. The title is in Elfish, Sindarin, which is the language Legolas from 'Lord of the Rings' talks in. The title means 'Dark Death, Dark Death'. Please read and review!  
  
Because I am nice and kind and love you all I've deiced to post just a 'lil teaser of part seven up right now. For some reason I'm in a really, really good mood and I've nearly fin this next part already! [Hint: More reviews = More parts.]   
For this teaser '...' means there is a brake in-between lines. Okay?  
  
Coming soon... Part 7: Verity reveled.  
  
'Trip sang, a big cold smile on his face. He waltzed around his quarters, holding a glass of red wine....  
  
"Here's to you 'dad'." he said, before giggling. He took a large sip of the wine, the cold smile still on his face.'  
  
'Tori glared at Archer, fury written all too clearly in her eyes.  
  
"I hated my husband. He was a monster, and, he hurt my boy." she added.'  
  
'Trip gazed at himself in the mirror, his eyes, normally warm and full of life were now icy cold. He lifted his shirt and stared at all the scars, crossing all over him.  
  
"Disgusting." he mummerd.'  
  
' "Backup, Backup, I need a backup..." Trip muttered, eyes fixed on his computer screen. A smile appeared on his face as he found the personal file he was looking for.'  
  
  
Coming... Soon.  
  
And that's your lot, so please read and review!  
  
  
Sethoz-Chan. 


	7. Verity Revealed

Disclaimer: Lots of angst etc. in this part: you have all been warned!   
The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." Big, huge, mucho thanks to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem. Thanks also to "Silvia", I had only posted the sixth part up for a few minutes and I got a really lovely e-mail from her about it! :)  
  
So... you all think Trip killed his dad? Did he or didn't he? Only I know! *laughs so hard, she falls off her chair* Evil gloating over now, please read then review!  
The Call Of Steel.  
Part 7:- Verity Revealed.  
~ want to break the whole bottle....  
set it all free  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
"Did you ever know that you're my hero?  
And everything I'd like to be?  
I can fly higher than an eagle,  
'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings!"  
  
Trip sang, a big cold smile on his face. He waltzed around his quarters, holding a glass of red wine. He stopped and raised the glass to an imaginary person.  
  
"Here's to you... 'Dad'." he said, before giggling. He took a large sip of the wine, the cold smile still on his face.  
  
~@~  
  
The funeral was going to be held on Earth. Archer knew that was what Charles Sr. had wanted. It was what he had put down in his will, if he was to die in space then he wanted to be returned to the one place he had know as home- Earth.  
  
"Why are we running around doing what he wanted?" Archer asked Prothos. His beagle looked up at him, his chocolate brown eyes staring at the cheese in Archer's left hand.  
  
"Woof!" He barked helpfully. Archer sighed and threw the bit of cheese towards Porthos' open mouth.  
  
"The Vulcan's are taking him back to Earth. I wonder if Trip is going too? Oh, Porthos, I don't know what to do." He reached down and stroked the soft fur of his dog. A few feet away on top of his desk lay a request from Starfleet that Archer contact Charles Tucker's widow. She had already been informed of his death but Starfleet had thought it best if Archer talked to her. And then there was Trip. The word 'Murder' still lingered in Archer's head as he waited for Dr. Phlox to tell him more. He sighed and look at the small pad on his desk. He couldn't put it off any longer. He stood up and walked out of his ready room. There was only a skeleton crew on the bridge and Archer suddenly realised how late it was.  
  
//Where has the day gone?\\ he asked himself. He glanced over to Hoshi's station and saw her there, her dark head bent over something. Archer smiled in spite of himself. It was at times like this, that Archer was reminded of how alike Trip and Hoshi really were. But thinking of Trip meant he thought of his dad and the whole trouble surrounding it. The smile slowly faded as he walked over to Hoshi. He suddenly looked old and wizened, aged long before his time.  
  
"Captain." Hoshi said, her face slightly flushed with excitement as she held a pad in her hands. "Is anything the matter?" Inwardly, Hoshi cringed as she heard the words coming out of her mouth.  
  
//'Is anything the matter?' Come off it Hoshi, the Captain just found a dead body a few hours ago, how do you think he's going to be feeling?\\  
  
"What are you working on?" Archer asked, answering her question with one of his own. Hoshi looked back at the pad she had been working on.  
  
"Oh, this. It's a recording of the message those aliens sent to use just before they went to warp." Hoshi said. Archer looked at her, his mind completely blank.  
  
"Aliens? What aliens?" he asked. Hoshi looked at him, her right eyebrow raised, a trait she had picked up from T'Pol.  
  
"You know, the alines that shot at us twice? We hit them, they sent us a garbled message then they went to warp? Remember?"  
  
"Oh yes, those aliens, what about them?" Archer asked. Hoshi sighed.  
  
"I've been translating the message they sent us, I'm having problems locking on to the main pattern, it just doesn't seem to fit with anything I know."  
  
"Hoshi... could you do me a favor?" Archer said. Hoshi looked at him, her eyes questioning.  
  
~@~  
  
Trip walked to his mirror, humming 'Wind beneath my wings' under his breath.  
  
He gazed at himself in the mirror, his eyes, normally warm and full of life were now icy cold. He lifted his shirt and stared at all the scars, crossing all over him.  
  
"Disgusting." he murmured. With a groan he pulled out some clean white bandages and began to wrap them around his wounds, hissing as the bandages touched tender areas. When he had wrapped most of the cuts, he pulled his shirt back down and stared at his hand in wonder. It was just a clean, normal male hand, yet to Trip it seemed something more. His eyes slowly trekked up to the mirror. He lent in closer, his eyes taking in every detail of his face.  
  
"I'm free..." He mummerd, a grin growing on his face. "I'm free... I'm free at last!" He gave his face a last look over and turned away from the mirror. His eyes fell on his computer and his grin grew even larger.  
  
"In fact... I think it's time to have some fun." he said thoughtfully.  
  
~@~  
  
Archer paced up and down in his ready room, every few seconds he would stare at the clock on his desk as if willing it too go faster, so he could get this next conversation over with. Hoshi had managed to get a transmission with 'Tori' Tucker, Trip's mum, however the person who had answered had informed her the new widow would not be avaible for a hour. So Archer had to wait, while the clock hands inched there way past the numbers, heading for a whole cycle. After what seemed like an age, the minute hand tick-tocked its way past the 12 and a hour had gone. Now that he was faced with it, all his courage dried away. He didn't know how to confront a grieving woman, not to mention somehow asking about the dreaded M word.  
  
"How am I going to do that?" Archer asked himself a trace of bitterness in his voice. He put on a squeaky voice as he imagined the scene.  
  
"Oh hi, Mrs. Tucker, sorry about your husband dying on my ship. Oh yeah you know your only son? The one who is my best friend? Well we think he killed his dad, what do you think?" He gave a snort and smacked his head with the palm of his hand.  
  
"Real smart." He said, the sarcasm dripping off his words. With a final sigh he reached over and turned on his computer. He wasn't looking forward to the next few minutes at all.  
  
~@~  
  
Trip's fingers danced over his keyboard, the movement seemed almost hypnotic. Every few seconds the fingers would freeze as he read what ever was on the screen, then the fingers would start re-start their dance as he didn't find what he was looking for. After about five minutes of this pattern they suddenly stopped. The fingers rested on the keyboard for longer than their normal five second rest. They lay there, as if the music they had been dancing to had stopped and it strings had been cut.  
  
"Backup, Backup, I need a backup..." Trip muttered, eyes fixed on his computer screen. A smile appeared on his face as he found the personal file he was looking for. He read and re-read the file, nodding to himself every now and then.  
  
"Perfect." He hissed, as his fingers began their dance again, only going backwards this time, deleting his trail of virtual footprints.  
  
~@~  
  
"Hello Mrs. Tucker... My name is Jonathan Archer, I'm the captain of the starship 'Enterprise' -" he got no further as the widow, dressed in traditional mourning colors broke in.  
  
"Jonathan? As in Jon, Charlie's- I mean Trip's friend?" She asked, her right forefinger and thumb twisting a lock of her hair, which was once ebony black, now streaked with a shining gray.  
  
"Yes that's right, has Trip talked about me?" he asked with a faint smile, glad to be talking about more morndane facts rather than jumping in at the deep end.  
  
"He would talk about you all the time." Tori smiled, a faint and all most missed smile but a smile all the same. "Cha- Trip really looks up to you, I want to thank you for being such a good friend."  
  
"Oh, it's no trouble, Trip's a good friend to me too." Archer replied, the answer somewhat forced.  
  
//Oh great, just what I need, now it's going to be even harder to say what I have to say.\\  
  
"You wanted to talk to me about something?" Tori asked. Archer glanced at her in surprise.  
  
"Actually... I thought you would want to talk to me."  
  
"Why?" she asked, seemingly genuinely bewildered at the question. Archer stared askew at her.  
  
"Well your husband of over 35 years died on my ship today. I thought you would want to... talk about it." He said, a cold fear assaulting him. There was something about this that he didn't like, something that made him wonder if there was something else going on here, something un-seen, behind the scenes. Tori flashed him a set of bright white teeth. She seemed amused by something, a joke known only to herself.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" She asked, mocking him. "That I miss my husband and that I loved him so much?"  
  
"Well, something along those lines..." Tori glared at Archer, fury written all too clearly in her eyes.  
  
"I hated my husband. He was a monster, and... and, he hurt my boy." she added. Archer gave her a look.  
  
"What do you mean he was a monster?" He asked carefully. "How did he hurt Trip?" Tori looked away.  
  
"Nothing." she said, as her eyes half closed. Archer was reminded of a empty house with the blinds pulled down on all the windors. There was something here... something that was wrong with Trip. Archer was tired of tiptoeing around the subject; he needed to know the truth. He stared at Tori and a small frown grew in the center of his forehead as something she had said struck him as... odd.  
  
"Mrs. Tucker... what do you call your son?" he asked slowly. For some reason the question seem to fluster her.  
  
"I call him Trip of course." she said. Archer shook his head.  
  
"No, you called him Charlie or started to, then for some reason you changed to Trip. Why?"  
  
"He wants to be called Trip, I just keep forgetting that." She mutted. Archer leaned forward, as if by moving closer to the screen he could somehow get closer to her.  
  
"Mrs. Tucker... Tori... please tell me. I want to help. I can't help if you don't let me... you have to trust me." Tori stared at him, with wide trouched eyes, then slowly looked away.  
  
"I... I-I can't." She said, but she seemed less than certain.  
  
"Please." Archer begged. "Let me help you."  
  
"I love Trip." She bust out. For a split second there was no noise then she hurried on, sounding slightly ferverish.  
  
"When he was a boy His dad would call him Charles or Boy. Charlie became the name I would call him, it was like a safety blanket for him, something his father hadn't ruined, hadn't dirtied. Charles was a cruel man. I didn't see it until it was too late, until we were married. I suppose I still could have left him... but then..."  
  
"Trip?" Archer guessed. Tori nodded.  
  
"A-And that monster would threaten to hurt him, threaten to hurt my beautiful baby if I tried to leave him." She rolled back her long left sleeve and showed Archer a long ragged scar than ran down her arm.  
  
"He got mad one day, when Trip was about three... I can't remember over what. He... He dragged me to the toilet. Trip was screaming, I was screaming but he just picked up a razor blade and slashed it down across my skin. I don't know what happened next... all I know is I woke up a few days later at a care home... My loving husband had had me committed. He told the staff I was delusional, paranoid and had tried to kill myself." She rubbed at the scar, her eyes cloudy.  
  
"They believed him."  
  
"They didn't ask you at all?" Archer asked in disbelief. Tori shook her head.  
  
"Where do you come from Mr. Archer?" she asked. Archer opened his mouth to say that where he came from had nothing to do with what they were talking about, but something about the way she had asked the question and the way she was now looking at him that made him think there was something important about the answer.  
  
"San Francisco. I come from San Francisco."  
  
"You see?" Tori said. "You come from a large city, you have no idea what it's like to live in a small town. My husband was a very important man there. Oh, I have no doubt that in a big city they would have at least heard my side of the story but where we lived, Tuckers had lived there for generations. In Panama City, Florida, you could be a Tucker and do anything. They couldn't believe that Charles would say anything if it wasn't the truth. As for me... my family had lived there for about ten years." She stood up and paced back and forth, still rubbing at her arm.  
  
"I was in that place for just over six months. All that time they left my boy with that monster and they wouldn't let me see him. When I came back I was too late. The boy I had left was gone. Charles had tried to destroy the loving sprit with beatings..." Archer sat spellbound and, he listened to Trip's early childhood, he felt physically sick.  
  
"Slowly I began to bring my boy back to the living. He was always Charlie to me. Until one day, just before he left for Starfleet. That was the worst day of my life."  
  
"What happened?" Archer asked, un-sure that he really wanted to know.  
  
"It was raining." Tori said with a slightly twisted smile as if the very memory of what she was going to say pained her.  
  
"It was night and it was raining. Trip was packing for Starfleet. We were so happy... he was happy because he loved what he was going to be doing. I was happy because he was escaping. His dad had gone out hours before. He came back very late and very drunk..." she shivered.  
  
"He was yelling and screaming, saying no boy of his will go into space.  
  
He began to hit me, calling me a bitch, saying this was all my fault. He grabbed something heavy and threw it at my head... I thought I was going to die.  
  
Then Trip showed up. He managed to grab the thing flying through the air before it hit me. His dad told him not to get involved otherwise he would get punished. Trip didn't care anymore. I do n't know why but he just stopped caring and attacked him." She sighed.  
  
"But my husband was stronger. He... He was yelling, telling Trip that he had gone to far, that his punishment was something new... He raped my son." Tori began to cry.  
  
"H-He raped him and I couldn't stop him. I-I wasn't strong enough... I c-couldn't stop him." she sobbed.  
  
"Afterwards, I got my son out of the house and sent him to Starfleet... but I had to get to know my boy all over again. When his father attacked him he called him Charlie... so Trip and I killed Charlie and he became Trip." Shelooked at Archer, her eyes red and puffy.  
  
"Help Trip." She pleaded. "Help my boy..." she looked away, tears still running down her face.   
  
"I have to go now. I-I need to lie down. Send Trip my love. Tell him to be strong..." she gave a weak smile. "Tell him God is crying for him." With that the screen went black. For a long time after Archer simply sat there, tears in his own eyes.  
  
"Trip... I'm so sorry, I didn't see." He stood up and walked out of his ready room. He still didn't have an answer to the death of Trip's dad. He still needed one.  
  
"I'll go and see if Dr. Phlox knows yet." Archer deiced and stepped into the turbolift.  
  
~@~  
  
Trip walked along a corridor, face red and blotchy. He looked terrible, with wide eyes, big puffy bags and an unsteady walk. Inside however he was humming to himself. He turned a corridor and walked over to a door. He pressed the buzzer and, after a short pause the door opened. Trip opened his mouth and made his voice sound scared and confused.  
  
"Hi... I hope y-you don't mind me coming to see you... I just wanted to talk to someone... Can I come in?... Thanks." He stepped inside and the shining door skimmed closed.  
  
TBC...  
  
There you have it, please review and tell me what you think.  
  
The chapter title is 'Verity revealed'. Verity is old English for 'Truth'.  
  
Please leave a review thanks!  
  
Here's a little snippet of part 8. Enjoy!  
  
'Hoshi's eyes widened as she translated the message There among the lines was one word that jumped out at her.   
  
"Tucker? Oh, no." She whispered.'  
  
'Archer stepped into Trip's bathroom and stopped, holding his hand up to his mouth in an effort to stop sick raising to throat. There was blood everywhere. A quick inspection revealed a razor blade.  
  
"Trip, oh Trip, no... please say this isn't what it looks like." He asked the empty room.'  
  
'Trip's wild eyes looked into Archer's.  
  
"I can't do this." He sobbed. With a gasp he took a step nearer to his death.  
  
"Trip!" Archer screamed, trying to stop his friend. "Trip! God is crying!" '  
If you want to know what's going on, you'll just have to wait for part 8!  
Coming Soon... Part 8: Smash.  
Sethoz-Chan 


	8. Smash

Disclaimer: Lots of angst etc. in this part: you have all been warned! The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." A big thank you to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem. Information on the other poems used are at the end of this part. Thanks to "HopefulNebula" and "Invader" for letting me use them.  
The Call Of Steel.  
Part 8:- Smash.  
~ bent on destruction  
little holes drain just as well as big  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
Trip woke with a start and sat bolt upright. He glanced wildly around the room, his hand on his chest. With a groan he rolled out of the bed and moved towards his bathroom, looking more like a zombie than a Chief Engineer. He reached his mirror and with a yawn pulled off his shirt. He gazed at his relection, his eyes full of sleep. He began to turn away but something white caught his eye. He stopped and looked back at his reflection.  
  
"What?" he muttered, fingering the clean white bangages. He didn't remember putting them on, at least not at first. After a few seconds memories began to slowly wash over him. Yet the whole time Trip was left with a feeling of detachment. As if what he had done was not really him.  
  
"Feels like I've been living underwater for the past few days... ever since I went and visited my father." The very thought of his father made Trip clench his teeth. He rubbed at the bandages, feeling them itch against the healing scars. Trip's fingers clenched and unclenched as he stared in the mirror, trying to ignore the need he was feeling, the need to feel cold steel on his walls of flesh. He pulled open a drawer and picked up the razor blade that was nestled in it.  
  
"I want to do this." He told the empty room. "I can stop whenever I want - but I don't want to." The words sounded hollow as they echoed around his bathroom. Trip slashed at his arms again and again, not feeling the cuts or the blood that came oozing out of them. The world began to spin for Trip. He paused mid-cut and tried to concentrate, however, the blade kept moving in and out of focus - one second it was clear cut and then next, fuzzy. Trip didn't even have time to swear before his legs folded in on him and he hit the floor, out cold.  
  
It was about three hours later when Trip came to. He was still in the bathroom, blood all over the left side of his face. He slowly forced himself into an upright position and looked around. For the first time he saw what he was doing to himself as what it really was. A sick hobby that was out of control. He also knew that even though he might deny it, he was addicted to the feel of the razor.  
  
"My God." He muttered as he saw the amount of dried blood that was all over his bathroom. It didn't take a doctor to know that he had lost more blood  
than was healthy. He needed to get out- away from this, away from everything. He reached up and scrubbed away the dried blood on his face. He carried on scrubbing at his face even when all the blood was gone. He scrubbed and scrubbed, hot tears mixing with the soap and water he was using. It was only when his arms, still weak from loss of blood, began to hurt that he stopped.  
  
"What am I?" He asked his reflection. "What?" He whispered, his tears drying. Barely noticing what he was doing, he pulled his shirt back on, smoothing down the sleeves before stepping out of his room. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do when he got there. All he knew was that he had to get away, had to get out, out of his own skin if need to, just to get away from the legacy his father had left him - the legacy that had made him who he was.  
  
~@~  
  
Archer was in a foul mood. After visiting Phlox he had been told that he still didn't know the casue of Charles Sr's death and he would inform the captain as soon as he did. That had been nearly 11 hours ago and Archer still hadn't had any news. A sudden beep by his right elbow jolted him out of his dark thoughts.  
  
"Archer here."  
  
"Captain this is Dr. Phlox. I have some news for you."  
  
"I'll be right there." Archer said, jumping out of his seat in his ready room. The doctor's voice came out of the comm.  
  
"There's no need Captain." Came his cheerful voice. "I have no doubt now that Mr. Tucker died a natural death."  
  
"Thank you." Archer said, his voice sounding odd. He switched off the com and sat back down, frowning as he tried to put his finger on the nagging feeling he was having. It came as a shock to Archer when he suddenly reconsidered the feeling.  
  
It was guilt.  
  
"Trip..." Archer said, knowing the guilty feeling in his chest was because he had suspected his best friend of murder. And then there had been Mrs. Tucker's big bombshell. Archer didn't know how to deal with the fact that anyone's own father could do what she said he did. There was only one thing Archer could think of. He had to go and talk to Trip, had to go and get this out in the open with him.  
  
Archer reached Trip's room, missing Trip by mere minutes, though he didn't know that. He pressed the button to override the locks. He had a feeling that Trip didn't want company, but he was going to get it anyway. Archer gave a sharp intake of breath when the door swung open. The room in front of him was in darkness - just as it had been when he had found Charles Sr. He took a slow step forward.  
  
"Computer. Lights." The lights came on and Archer looked around. The whole place was neat and tidy, something that was most odd for Trip. As he looked around his eyes caught sight of a red stain in the bathroom, the door of which was slightly open. Archer stepped into Trip's bathroom and stopped, holding his hand up to his mouth in an effort to stop sick raising to throat. There was blood everywhere. A quick inspection revealed a razor blade.  
  
"Trip, oh Trip, no... please say this isn't what it looks like." He asked the empty room. He stumbled back out and looked around the empty rooms once more. By Trip's bed was a large black book. It seemed to disrupt the picture of neatness he was looking at because people simply didn't really use paper much any more. He reached out a hand and slowly picked up the book, feeling the weight in his hands. He slowly opened the book, his eyes travleling over the pages as he flicked through them. Vague lines jumped out at him. Vague lines of poetry.  
  
"The mask I wear day-by-day, It's hiding the fact that I'm not okay."  
  
He muttered. His eyes fell one another page which had another poem.  
  
"bringing that life back to your heart. along with the pain. for pain is your life"  
  
He whispered in horror. His hands turned just one more page to the last poem in the book. He read it, his eyes widening, before dropping the black book and running out of the room. The book stayed open at the last poem which was only four lines long;  
  
~Like the cuts on my arm  
Like the burns on my hand  
Like a memory long gone  
I will soon fade away~  
  
~@~  
  
The screen illuminated Hoshi's face as she sat by her desk trying to work out the message. Bits were starting to come together but none of it made any sense. Her computer gave a beep and she smiled, realizing it had worked out the other language. That was the theory at least. Hoshi's eyes widened as she translated the message. There among the lines was one word that jumped out at her.  
  
"Tucker? Oh, no." She whispered. She read the message all the way through, noting the few words that had not been translated- most likely names and stood up, her breathing un-even. She had to find the Captain. Before it was too late.  
  
~@~  
  
Trip wandered the corridors in a daze, not knowing where he was going and not really caring. He passed countless crewmen who all said things to him, words of sorrow, of pity and he didn't hear a single word they said. He let his feet guild him, as his mind was busy elsewhere, wandering paths of misery. He stopped and looked around. To his surprise his feet had led him right to the launch bay, shrugging his shoulders he stepped inside and looked around at the cold bay, where the shuttle lay, silent. He looked back and forth between the doors leading to the rest of the ship and the controls that opened the bay doors. Just one little button to press, then just let go... and it would all be over. He slowly moved towards the console, his eyes glued to the tiny button. He climbed up the metal ladder and moved along the gangway, his feet drawn towards the console. Below him the launch bay doors opened and Archer came sprinting in. He skidded to a stop and looked around, hoping to spot Trip. For a second he didn't see him, then his gaze shot upwards and there was Trip. He looked terrible in Archer's view- pale skin and bloodshot eyes.  
  
"Trip?" Archer said, keeping his voice as normal as possible. "What are you doing?" Trip jumped as if he had been stung.  
  
"Cap'n. I'm... just checking out some odd readings." He said. Archer frowned. Archer himself had just come from Engineering and knew that no one there knew where Trip was. The lines of poetry floated back into his head and all his fears returned- fears which he had convinced himself were groundless. His eyes moved over to the control panel Trip was next to. He gave a tiny gasp as pieces slotted together with a dreaded 'click'.  
  
"Trip... No, tell me this isn't what it looks like." He pleaded, looking up at his friend who started back at him, eyes empty.  
  
"Depends. What does this look like?" Trip asked dully.  
  
"It looks like you're about to make a huge mistake." Archer said softly, taking a tiny step towards Trip.  
  
"A mistake?" Trip gave an laugh, empty of all feelings. He looked down at the console, trying to blink away the tears that had suddenly sprung into his eyes.  
  
"You call fixing my problem a mistake?"  
  
"You call fixing your problem killing yourself?" Archer retorted. "Trip, I know how you'll feeling but-"  
  
"You know?" Trip said harshly. "How could YOU possibly know how I feel?" He asked, real bitterness leaking into his voice. Archer paused as he considered Trip's words.  
  
"You're right, I don't know how you feel." He said quietly, his voice holding the tone of defeat.   
  
"I'll probably never know how you feel, but the Trip I know wouldn't do this. The Trip I know is a fighter." Trip's wild eyes looked into Archer's.  
  
"I can't do this." He sobbed. With a gasp he took a step nearer to his death.  
  
"Trip!" Archer screamed, trying to stop his friend. "Trip! God is crying!" Trip paused and looked back at his friend, tears pouring down his face.  
  
"Wh-What did you say?" he asked horsly.  
  
"I said God's crying Trip." Archer repeated. He stepped up the ladder and moved towards Trip, his hands outstretched. Trip curled up into a ball and watched Archer step closer and closer and unable to do anything about it.  
  
"Trip. Please... come here." Archer pleaded, holding out his arms. All it needed was for Trip to move just a centimeter backwards and he would be right on the button which would kill them both. Trip turned his head and stared at Archer his eyes bright and clear despite the tears that had run down them. He slowly moved towards Archer. Just before him he paused and looked at the ground then back up at Archer.  
  
"Help me." He muttered.  
  
"I will, I promise." Archer said as Trip fell into his arms. At first he thought Trip was merely lying quietly then he realized with a sickening feeling that Trip was unconscious. A quick glance showed Archer all the cuts Trip had inflicted on himself.  
  
"Let's get you to the doctor."  
  
~@~  
  
Dr. Phlox lifted the cold hand of Charles Sr and peered at one of the fingers.  
  
"Odd." He muttered. Using some tweezers he carefully removed a small gray computer chip from under the forefinger finger nail.  
  
"Doctor!" Archer screamed, rushing into sickbay, Trip in his arms. The chip, along with everything else was forgotten as he went over to Trip.  
  
~@~  
  
Archer paced up and down outside sickbay waiting for Dr. Phlox to tell him something. Hoshi rushed up to him, out of breath.  
  
"Captain!" she gasped. "I have some news for you. It's about that message. I've worked it out... there's something in it you should hear." Archer looked over at her, glad to be able to focus on something besides Trip.  
  
"What is it Hoshi?"  
  
"Basically Sir?" She asked, prolonging her moment. At Archer's nod she took a deep breath, with the air of someone about to drop a bombshell.  
  
"Charles Sr might not be as dead as he would like us to think."  
  
TBC...  
The poems used are;  
  
The first poem is "Cold Inside" by me (Sethoz) and the full version can be found at:   
  
The second poem is "6 Ways to Look at a Scar" by HopefulNebula and the full version can be found at:   
  
The last poem is "Fade" by Invader and the full version can be found at:   
Please, please leave a review and check out the poems, they're very good!  
Here, you all go, another teaser for the next part.  
"You mean, I have to... kill Trip?" Archer asked, his voice dull. Phlox looked at him, then slowly nodded.  
Coming Soon... Part 9: Above all things, Love.  
Sethoz-Chan 


	9. Above All Things, Love

Disclaimer: Please be warned, this story deals with abuse and self-harm. You have been warned.  
  
I am so sorry about the lack of up-dates I have no real excuse. I'm so so sorry!  
  
The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." A big thank you to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem. Part of this chapter and the next chapter have been inspired by the DS9 episode: The Passenger - season one.   
  
Please read and review!  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
Part 9:- Above all Things, Love.  
  
~ cold  
  
sharp  
  
metal  
  
the thoughts flutter  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
"What do you mean?" Archer asked, his full attention on Hoshi.  
  
"The race that attacked us are called the Kobliad. The message they sent us was a warning. It seems a group of them visited Earth a few months ago, when they were leaving they were robbed and some files were stolen, including the schematics for a certain kind of data chip." Hoshi said, slightly out of breath.  
  
"What kind of data chip? I still don't understand what any of this has to do with Trip's... farther." Archer said, a small frown appearing between his eyes. Hoshi carried on.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure what the chip does. The message said something about placing someone's Ka into another person. So I-"  
  
"Ka?" Archer asked, bewildered.  
  
"It mean's someone's soul." Hoshi said softly . "The message also accused Charles Sr of stealing the plans so I came to the conclusion that Charles had... taken someone over." Hoshi finished. She looked at Archer, seeing an odd expression on his face. Mistaking the look for disbelief she hurried on.  
  
"I know it sounds weird, but you have to trust me Captain, we are dealing with alien technology here, who knows how far ahead of us they are. If you think about it, it's not as farfetched as it sounds." Hoshi said. Archer looked off into the distance, thinking hard. Without a word he turned around and walked into sickbay, Hoshi hard on his heels.  
  
"Captain, what is this about?" she asked in confusion. Archer shook his head, telling her to be quiet without words as he stared at the bed that held her best friend. Hoshi slowly raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Captain?" she asked softly. Archer turned to her.  
  
"Is it..." he paused and took a deep breath. "Is is possible Charles Sr. imprinted his... Ka, on Trip?"  
  
"Well..." Hoshi began slowly. "I suppose anything is possible. It would all depend on if Trip has been acting differently the past few days, out of the ordinary in some way."  
  
"Very well, Hoshi, you'll dismissed. Oh and don't tell anyone about Charles Sr or that you saw Trip here." Archer said. Hoshi nodded, events were going past too fast for her to take them in.  
  
"Yes Sir." she said before walking out of sickbay. Archer sat down and looked at the still body of his friend.  
  
"So, have you been acting differently lately Trip?" he asked, a trace of hysteric in his voice. "I don't know anymore. I thought I knew you Trip, but I don't know anything..." he trailed off, bile and sobs bubbling up past his throat.  
  
"I don't know anything about you anymore..." he whispered. Phlox walked over, alarmed by the tears Archer was shedding.  
  
"Captain Archer?"  
  
"Doctor, good. I have reason to believe that there is a... second presence in Trip's body." Archer said, his manner brisk, at the moment he was fully a captain and nothing else. Phlox's face lit up.  
  
"That would explain some things. How do you know this?" Phlox asked, while pulling up a brain scan he had taken of Trip only a few moments before. He carried on without waiting for an answer.  
  
"As you can see there appears to be two brain waves - yet these are so alike that I attributed it to a mistake in the computer."  
  
"So Trip's dad could be in there?" Archer said, before launching into the whole story of the Kobliad, the chip and all the horrid things that could have happened.  
  
"I have an idea." Phlox said after Archer had finished and after he had pulled up all the information the ship had on the race known as the 'Kobliad'. "This is what I propose."  
  
~~~  
  
"You mean, I have to... kill Trip?" Archer asked, his voice dull. Phlox looked at him, then slowly nodded.  
  
"I can do it." he offered, holding up the hypospray. Archer shook his head, determined. He reached out and plucked the hypo from the Doctors grasp before injecting it into Trip in one sudden decompression. Trip opened his eyes, waking up.  
  
"Cap'n..."  
  
"Don't play the innocent with me Charles Sr." Archer spat out. Trip frowned, the rest of his face perfectly frozen.  
  
"W-What?" he said, struggling to put on a convincing stutter. It didn't seem to be enough. Archer continued to frown down at him.  
  
"Be order of Starfleet, you Charles Sr, have been sentenced to death for your crimes."  
  
"Cap'n, what are you talking about ?! It's me, Trip" Trip pleaded, looking scared.  
  
"We know all about the Kobliad. We known what you did." Archer and Trip started at each other, there wills pitted against the other. Suddenly Trip laughed, a cold high laugh.  
  
"Then you know that if you hurt me, you hurt Trip." the man in Trip's body snarled, a gloating smile lacing his lips.  
  
"That's where you're wrong. I know Trip would rather die than have you walk around in his body. So I injected a substance in you. You'll just go to sleep and not wake up." 'Trip' glared at him, trying to work out if he was telling the truth.  
  
"You're bluffing."  
  
"Try me." Archer said coldly.  
  
"You wouldn't hurt Trip... well, not any more than you have." This grabbed the Captains attention and held it fast.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I may have been the one to destroy the boy's faith, but it was you who re-built it... and it is you who have done far more damage by saving him than I could ever hope to achieve." 'Trip' said. He closed his eyes briefly then forced them open.  
  
"There must be an antidote!" he cried in fear. "You wouldn't do this... Cap'n help me... please..." he murmured. Archer turned his head away as 'Trip' drifted off into his artificial slumber.  
  
"It won't be long now." Phlox said, staring down at the still form of Trip Tucker. For half an hour they waited, neither one speaking, just watching the sleeping engineer. Even in this, his final sleep he was not a peace. Archer curled his fingers into a fist as he realized that Charles Sr, was tormenting Trip. Archer could only hope and pray that he was doing the right thing and that Trip knew that. Slowly, ever so slowly Trip's breathing stopped. His heart failed. His other organs shut down, one by one. Phlox pressed a button on the pad he was holding.  
  
"All we can do is wait." he pronounced, gravely. Roughly two minutes crept by, until Phlox stood up.  
  
"Now." was all he said. With speed, he injected something into Trip's blood stream and watched intently. Archer crossed his fingers.  
  
"Come on Trip, I told your mother I'd take care of you. Don't make me a liar." he pleaded. Suddenly Trip's eyes snapped open and he stared at Archer in complete confusion.  
  
"It's okay Trip, you're safe now."  
  
"...dead?" Trip muttered, licking his dry lips. Archer smiled.  
  
"No, you're not dead. Dr. Phlox knew that if your body shut down, your father's brain waves would retreat to the original brain." It was all too much for Trip to take in at the moment. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, the strain of the past few days taking there toll.  
  
Archer looked at Phlox, the smile fading from his face.  
  
"Is he going to be okay?"  
  
"He should be, after some rest."  
  
"What about Charles Sr?" Archer asked, his mouth suddenly dry. Phlox moved over to the other bed."He should have returned to his own body." Phlox pulled back the curtain, to revel the still body of Charles. Phlox frowned and bent over his body.  
  
"He's... still dead..." Phlox muttered. Archer stared at the body, willing himself to feel remorse that the man was dead, but all he could think about was the things that he had done to his only son. Archer didn't even what to think about what he might have done to Trip's sister. He had noticed that none of the Tucker clan had mentioned Lizzy and prayed that this meant she hadn't been harmed.   
  
"Sub-Commander T'Pol to Captain Archer." The Vulcan's bland tones filled the airwaves, jolting Archer back into the here and now, away from his dark thoughts.  
  
"Archer here."  
  
~~~  
  
It was some hours later before Trip made any indication that he was ready to return to the land of the living. He feebly tried to open his eyes, blinking at the bright light that threatened to blind him. He could dimly see a shadow to the right of him.  
  
"Cap'n?" he murmured, straining his eyes in an effort to see who was standing over him. The past days crashed over him in a wave, making his breath caught in his chest. Who was standing over him? Who? He lifted his arms, trying to protect himself from the shadow.  
  
"Easy Commander, easy." a soothing voice said and the next second the shadow had come into focus. Dr. Phlox smiled at his ill charge."How are you feeling?"  
  
"Tired." Trip muttered, not feeling ready for a long discussion on the state of his health. Besides there was something at the edge of his mind, clamoring for his attention. He closed his eyes to focus on it, trying to remember what ever it was. The knowledge came to him in bits, time moving, first slowly, then rushing ahead, leaving an odd pounding sound in his head.  
  
//Trip walked along a corridor, face red and blotchy. He looked terrible, with wide eyes, big puffy bags and an unsteady walk. Inside however he was humming to himself. He turned a corridor and walked over to a door. He pressed the buzzer and, after a short pause the door opened. Trip opened his mouth and made his voice sound scared and confused.  
  
"Hi... I hope y-you don't mind me coming to see you... I just wanted to talk to someone... Can I come in?... Thanks." He stepped inside and the shining door skimmed closed.  
  
Inside the room Trip stood in the middle of the floor, pushing something under the fingernail of his middle finger. When the other person looked away, to reach something from the floor he was ready. Moving forwards he tripped, falling on the back of the other. Though the other didn't know it, Trip had injected something into his arm. Trip pushed himself off the back and scrambled backwards, his job done.  
  
"Ne-never mind." he said, before bolting through the door and out into the corridor. He was dimly aware of someone calling after him but he was too busy gloating inside to be bothered by it. When he entered his own room, he carefully removed the tiny chip from under his nail before stamping on it, destroying it completely...\\  
  
He jerked awake, his face coating in a cold sweat.  
  
"Oh God... Doctor!" he screamed, trying to tell someone what he or rather his father had done. There was no answer. After a moments hesitation he climbed out of bed and ran out of sickbay, searching for someone - anyone. The closest place was the mess hall. There was bound to be someone there, someone he could tell.  
  
Trip ran headlong into the mess hall. He didn't notice the light was off until it was too late. With a half muffled cry he fell over a long black shape that was lying on the floor just inside the door. Trip remained where he had fallen, his breath knocked out of him .And then the light switched on, without any warning or any sound bar a small 'click' which could have been anything. Trip raised his head slight and froze in horror. About twenty feet away from him, leaning against the wall was Captain Archer, bound and gagged, though thankfully, at the moment at least, awake.  
  
It was like something in a horror movie. Trip slowly twisted his body to stare at the thing he had fallen over. It was the chef, a phaser wound in his leg. For a long, agonizing second the chef's body remained frozen, then to Trip's joy, his chest raised, to signify that he was still breathing and therefore still alive. A shadow fell over Trip, covering him for head to toe.  
  
"Ah, Son, how lovely to see you." a voice purred down at him.  
  
Trip looked up into the smiling face of Malcolm Reed.  
  
TBC...  
  
anks for all the reviews, please leave one, now you've read this!   
  
Because I love you lot;  
  
Here, you all go, another teaser for the next part...  
  
"What's the matter Charlie? Not happy to see your old man?" he mocked, admiring his new body. "I must say I like this arrangement better." he purred, moving over to his terrified son. "This way I can relive my life, and... punish you for your disobedience."  
  
Coming Soon... Part 10: Infinite Shades of Gray.  
  
~ Sethoz 


	10. Frenzy of the Mind

Disclaimer: **Warning** This story deals with child abuse and self harm. If this is not the sort of story you want to read, please leave now.  
  
This is not intended as a crude story about child abuse simply for the sake of child abuse. It is a difficult story to read, I understand that, it is also a difficult story to write. However, I feel that the subject needs to be written about.  
  
If you wish to read humor Enterprise fiction, I have written some and there are many fabulous writers out there who specials in humor. Please do not read this then flame me. I do not own Enterprise, Trip, Archer or anything used in this story.  
  
The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." A big thank you to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem.   
  
Just to clear something up. I love Malcolm as well, 'K? After Trip, he's my favorite character. The reason why I did what I did to Malcolm was to give him more to do in this story.   
  
So please, please don't hate me... we'll I suppose you can hate me if you want, just don't hate my story.   
  
To keep it simple Charles Sr will just be referred to as Malcolm in this part. Okay?  
  
Part of this chapter and the last chapter have been inspired by the DS9 episode: The Passager - season one.   
  
~~~  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
~~~  
  
Part 10:- Frenzy of the Mind.  
  
~ ....release.....  
  
....pain.........  
  
....hurting.....  
  
....people......  
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
Trip jumped as if he had been shot. In one fluent motion, he moved away from both the chef and Malcolm, backing away as fast as he could, while still keeping his father in his sights. He bumped into something cold and smooth, realizing with an increasing sense of horror that he was against the bulkhead and therefore trapped. He gazed at Malcolm, a look of defeat in his eyes.  
  
Through all of Trip's movement, Malcolm had been content to simply watch him, much as a scientist would watch a rat in a lab.  
  
"Son." the single word was said sweetly and nothing could have sounded more innocent than the word 'son', yet there was malice and evil in the way he said that word.  
  
"What's the matter Charlie? Not happy to see your old man?" he mocked, admiring his new body.   
  
"I must say I like this arrangement better." he purred, moving over to his terrified son. "This way I can relive my life, and... punish you for your disobedience."  
  
"You won't get away with this." Trip said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Malcolm laughed.  
  
"Really? I don't see anyone rushing in to try and stop me. Or maybe they're just hiding?" Malcolm mocked. He moved around the room, looking under chairs and speaking in a tone usually reserved for kids when they hide in plain sight.  
  
"Where can they be? Are they under the table?" At the word "table", Malcolm lunged to it and peered under. "No? Are they... behind this chair? No, where oh where can they be?"  
  
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Trip voice rose steadily.  
  
"You want me to stop it?" Malcolm whispered, leaning forward so that he could talk directly into Trip's ear. "Make me." He stepped back and stared at Trip steadily, for a few moments.  
  
"No?" he asked in mock surprise. He pulled forward a chair and sat on it, his eyes never leaving Trip's face.  
  
"How you been, son?" he asked. Trip's mouth fell open and he laughed a hysterical laugh. Malcolm frowned. He didn't like things he had no control over or things he didn't know about.  
  
"How dare you ask me that?" Trip said, between hysterical gasps. "You raped my mind, just like what you are doing to Malcolm's mind, you know exactly how I've been."  
  
"Rape?" Malcolm said, a confused look on his face. "I wouldn't call it rape. Doesn't a father have a right to know what's going on with his son's life? And if said son doesn't write, send messages or even admit he has a father then the father has to take matters into his own hands."  
  
Trip shook his head and began to rock slightly.  
  
"Stop being so silly. It wasn't rape. Is that what you told everyone?" Malcolm asked, a smile coming to his face. "Did you tell everyone that our little... secret was a violation? Charlie, my boy, you wanted it. You asked me for it."  
  
"You're lying. I never wanted anything you gave me." Trip said in a small voice, looking at his hands, but not seeing them. Malcolm reached out a hand, to stoke Trip's hair. The engineer flinched and turned his head away. Malcolm froze.  
  
"Why do you hurt me like this?" he asked. Trip looked up, his eyes red and swollen.  
  
"Because I hurt too!" he said. "You satisfied Dad? You gain my fear but you lose me... and now... even if you hurt me again, even if you kill me it won't make any difference." he paused, a look of surprise in his eyes as if he had just discovered something important.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you anymore." Trip half smiled, a twisted smile on the right side of his face as he repeated his words.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you anymore."  
  
Malcolm grabbed Trip by the shirt and pulled him to his feet, before slamming him against the wall. Trip limply let him fling him about.  
  
"You made a mistake, Dad." he said sadly, not moving to try and brake free. "You made me face you and I realized something. I'm not some little kid anymore who doesn't know what's going on." Malcolm swung his arm back and slapped Trip hard, across the face. Trip face spun with the force of the impact but he made no move to defend himself. Malcolm stared at the other man for a moment before dropping him in a boneless heap and turning away.  
  
"Was it worth it?" Trip asked after the retreating figure. His father stopped but didn't look back at his son.  
  
"You think all this pretend control throws me, boy?" he asked in a cold voice. "You may not be afraid of me hurting you but one thing you seem to have forgotten is that I still have a phaser and your precious Captain."  
  
"Leave him out of this." Trip said, panic leaking into his voice without him meaning it too. Inwardly Malcolm smiled, pressing home his advantage.  
  
"Why? He's the cause of all of this! If it wasn't for him, none of this would have happened, you wouldn't have had the backbone to stand up to me." in one fluid motion he bent down and dragged Archer to his feet, his phaser digging into the older man's ribs.  
  
"You always were spineless, son, don't try and change now." he spat, an ugly look on face."Apologize to me or your Captain gets a new hole in his chest." Trip's eyes sought Archer's, pleading, unsure of what to do.  
  
"I..." he began. His dad pushed the phaser harder into Archer's rib's, making him groan slightly, a sound that could be heard, even through the gag.  
  
"Think carefully." his father warned. Trip bowed his head.  
  
"I'm sorry." he muttered. Malcolm smiled.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. What did you say?" he asked, clearly taunting his son. He felt no pity, no empathy for his son, only the wish to control. His control had slipped somewhat of late but he would soon remedy that.  
  
With Charles Sr. it was all about control.   
  
Trip slowly pulled himself to his feet, using the wall as support.  
  
"I said, I'm sorry." Trip said loudly. Malcolm smiled and pushed Archer to the floor, the phaser moved so that it was positioned directly behind his head.  
  
"I don't believe you mean that. Say it again... and this time mean it." Malcolm said in a sing song tone. Trip ground his teeth and scanned the room, his eyes falling on... Archer's phaser.  
  
It lay just under a table, where it clearly had fallen. If Trip could somehow get to that table he could - well he didn't know what he could do, only that he could do something.  
  
"I'm sorry father." he said. His lifted clear eyes to meet Malcolm's own. "I only wish you knew how sorry I was." His father laughed, a laugh that set Trip's teeth on edge.  
  
"That's better." he said, lifting his phaser and bring it down, hard, on Archer's head. The other man crashed to the floor.  
  
"Do you know why I did that?" he asked. Trip began to slip round the side of the room, shaking his head. His father smiled, a superior smile.  
  
"Because you have to hurt the heart." he explained. Trip had nearly reached the table now, he could see the phaser, just out of his direct line of sight. He forced himself not to look at it and instead watched his dad. He had the warily look of a man playing a difficult game. All it would take to ruin everything was one flicker to where the phaser lay, one glance and he would have betrayed himself.Trip moved nearer and nearer to the phaser, moving so painfully slowly.  
  
"What are you doing?" Malcolm suddenly asked. Trip froze, like a deer trapped in headlights. Before he could answer there was a low groan behind him. The chief stirred, crying out in pain as he tried to move his leg. Trip acted on pure instinct, not allowing himself any time to think about what he was doing.  
  
He dived forward the second Malcolm turned, his hands reaching out, fingers grasping at the cool metal of the phaser. Even as he fell forward, the phaser pointed upwards, Malcolm turned to face him.  
  
In that moment time slowed.  
  
His finger curled around the trigger, squeezing it. The phaser bolt erupted from the gun, a lighting flash of energy. Trip could see the air parting as the bolt slid past him and reached Malcolm. He heard Malcolm's scream then a thud.  
  
Time sped back up.  
  
Trip crawled forward to where Malcolm was writhing on the ground a phaser wound in his right arm. The other phaser lay a few feet away. Trip pushed it, sliding it across the floor and away from his dad. Trip stood up, fingering something in his pocket.  
  
"I'm so sorry." Trip repeated and pulled out a small metal objet. Malcolm frowned at it then his eyes widened as he searched the armory officer's memory and realized what it was.   
  
A miniature electrical device used in Engineering to make a small field of electricity. It could also shock a man and stop his heart. This certain one had done just that and if it hadn't been for the fast thinking of Dr. Phlox the man would have died. The device had then been turned off and Trip had added it to his 'To fix' list before forgetting all about it.  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
"I'm sorry." Trip said, and turned on the device, dropping it. It fell through the air towards Malcolm. He could only lie there, his face registering complete surprise before it hit him.   
  
Malcolm's body jerked once then went limp.  
  
"Captain?" a worried voice called from the other side of the door. "Lt. Sato said you would be here, I'm afraid that the Commande-" the door opened and Dr. Phlox came in. He took the whole scene in at a glance.  
  
"Malcolm needs medical attention the most." Trip said, falling to his knees. He stared in morbid fascination at the dead body.  
  
"I... I killed him." he muttered.  
  
~~~  
  
"Goodbye Cap'n." Trip said slowly, a day later. He stood by the docking bay, where the Vulcans were waiting, his father's body already stored in the other ship.  
  
"Tell Malcolm sorry for me, will ya?" he asked shyly. Archer nodded, not trusting himself to speck, a lump in his throat. T'Pol stood a little way away.  
  
"Lt. Reed will be regaining consciousness in a few hours, Commander." she said. Trip nodded.  
  
"I know, but I have to go." he said before turning and walking off the ship and maybe, just maybe out of everyone's lives. TBC...  
  
There you have it! Please leave a review, just one more part to go.  
  
Here's a teaser. :)  
  
"What are you doing?" Archer exclaimed, Trip shrugged his shoulders philosophically.  
  
"Starfleet only want the best. After everything that's happened and after everything that has been found out, how can I be the best?" he said evenly.  
  
Coming Soon...  
  
Part 11:- Light at the End of the Tunnel?  
  
Review's wanted.   
  
~Sethoz 


	11. Siren Song

Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise, Commander 'Trip', Archer, Malcolm, T'Pol, Vulcan's, the human race or anything else I have used in this part.  
  
The title and parts of poem in this story are taken from Mlaa's "The Call Of Steel." A big thank you to my beta, "HopefulNebula" as always, and to "Mlaa" for being kind enough to let me borrow her poem.   
  
It's been a long time coming, but this is is. This is the last part to a story that took me roughly a year to write. Thank you so much to everyone who stuck by it, even when I was hit by long periods of writers block.  
  
The Call Of Steel.  
  
Part 11:- Siren Song.  
  
~ you think you know  
  
but do you really?  
  
are your friends ok?  
  
or do they pretend?   
  
"The Call of Steel" by Mlaa ~  
  
Archer paused in the middle of the report he was reading and looked up. Someone had pressed the bell on his door, indicating that they wished to talk to him. They rang again, longer this time and slightly more insistent. However Archer hesitated, the events of the last month still foremost in his mind.  
  
//Stop being so silly Jon.\\ he rebuked to himself. Even so he took a deep breath before calling out.  
  
"Come in." The doors to his quarters opened and T'Pol walked in. Archer gave an inward smile, with T'Pol standing there his fears seemed silly and minuet.  
  
"Yes Sub-Commander? How can I help you?" he asked. T'Pol gave an almost un-noticed pause before answering, her voice as emotionless as always and yet - Archer could have sworn that there was something different in her voice.  
  
"The Vulcan ship carrying the Commander is approaching."  
  
"Thank you T'Pol. Dismissed." he said. T'Pol turned to go. At the door she paused and slowly turned back.  
  
"Captain." she said. Archer looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
"Yes T'Pol?" he asked, encouraging. "What is it?"  
  
"I was wondering... what is going to happen to the Commander?" she asked, her voice slightly strained. Archer sighed at the question. After last mouth, Trip had returned to Earth with his dad's body to go to the funeral and to see his mum.  
  
Starfleet had insisted that Trip see a psychologist and have a psychology evaluation to determine if he was fit enough to remain in Starfleet. The report about him had been sent to Archer and it was this report that Archer had been reading.  
  
"I don't know Sub-Commander. Could you ask the Commander to come and see me when the ship docks?"   
  
"Yes Captain."  
  
~~~  
  
Trip paused outside of the Captains Quarters and rubbed his eyes with his hand. Slowly he reached out and pressed the down on the small button by the door. Inside he could hear the buzzing, followed by;  
  
"Come in." The doors slid open and Trip stood there, in the doorway, lingering between entering and exiting, unsure of what to do. Archer looked towards the door as it opened, to revel a uncertain Trip Tucker.  
  
"Trip, good come in." he said, giving Trip a smile. Trip smiled faintly back and walked properly into the room, the door closing behind him, cutting off his escape route. He sat down on the edge of the nearest seat, looking ready to bolt at the first hint of trouble. Archer couldn't help but see that Trip looked slightly different than the last time he had seen him. It wasn't a single change that could be pointed out. Rather it was a collection of tiny changes that by themselves would be unimportant. He looked more at peace than he did before as if some of his demons had gone.  
  
"How are you Trip?" he asked, acutely aware of a feeling of de'ja vu. Trip gave a slightly crooked smile and made a jerky gesture with his hand.  
  
"I'm good." his hand jerked again, in an uncontrolled spasm.  
  
"Well, not 'good', as in the hills are alive with the sound of music good, but I'm better. I'm... dealing." he added. Archer nodded.  
  
"Good. That's good." he said, a shade too brightly. An uneasy silence settled on the two men like a heavy blanket. It was Archer, in the end, who broke it.  
  
"How's your mum?" Trip looked startled for a moment before giving Archer the first true smile he had seen from him since he had showed up.  
  
"She's very well. She said to tell you 'thanks'."  
  
"Good." Archer said again. The uneasy silence descended on the two again, eager to claim it's victims. This time it was Trip who broke it.  
  
"What's going to happen to me now?" he said. Archer's mouth opened and closed a few times, no sound coming out.  
  
"Are you going to answer me or pretend to be a goldfish all day?" Trip joked, trying to mask the fear he felt. He fidgeted slightly as Archer shut his mouth.  
  
"Starfleet... Starfleet only want the best there is." he began slowly. Trip's eyes hardened, before his head dropped down.  
  
"I'll go and get my things then." he muttered, cutting of Archer.  
  
"What are you doing?" Archer exclaimed, Trip shrugged his shoulders philosophically.  
  
"Starfleet only want the best. After everything that's happened and after everything that has been found out, how can I be the best?" he said evenly.  
  
"Trip... what happened between you and your dad was bad but it was in no way your fault. As for your... cutting, yes it was an idiotic thing to do and yes Starfleet are worried, but not about the ship, they'll worried about you."  
  
"Me?" Trip said in surprise.  
  
"Yes. Now I've had talks with Starfleet, talked to the psychologist you saw and as long as you agree to certain conditions they see no reason as why you can't remain on board the Enterprise." he finished, waiting for some kind of reaction from Trip.  
  
Trip didn't know what to say or do. Every since he had left Enterprise he had been convinced that his time on Enterprise was over. Therefor on his way back to the Enterprise he had passed the time by mentally planning out his goodbyes and trying to adjust to the fact he would most likely never see them again. When he had planned his goodbyes to Malcolm, Phlox, Hoshi and Travis he had felt sad, upset and even a little angry at the thought of saying goodbye.   
  
When he came to plan his goodbye to T'Pol he had felt a sharp, strange stab of pain in his chest. It surprised him that he should miss her with such intensity and not want to leave her. The strength of this un-named feeling shocked him, especially as his pervious feelings towards the female Vulcan had started off as mistrust then moved to a kind of respect. Trip didn't know how he felt about T'Pol know but he knew it was most diffidently not just respect.  
  
"I... why?" Trip asked, though wither his question was about his feelings for T'Pol or why he was staying on Enterprise was impossible to tell. His puzzled eyes met Archer's jubilant ones.  
  
"You'll the best Trip." was Archer's simple answer. Trip gave a smile, a warm fuzzy feeling filling his chest. Archer thought he was the best. Even after all that happened, even when his problem had been uncover and brought kicking and screaming into the light of day, Jon Archer still wanted to be friends with him.  
  
"You'll the best." Archer repeated.  
  
"The light was so bright. I thought I was already out." he murmured with a far away look, his eyes fixed on a spot to the right of Archer's head yet it was clear he was not seeing the wall. He seemed to be looking inward at something only he could see.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just something someone once said to me. About being in a dark tunnel and feeling so lost then seeing some light... you know what Cap'n? I can see it at last. The light I mean..." he trailed off, at a loss to explain in words what he meant. This time however the silence that descended on the two wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was an easy quiet, the friendship between the two men healing already.  
  
"What conditions?" Trip asked, his mind going over everything Archer had said.  
  
"Ah. You have to visit Phlox every day for a check up... to make sure..." Archer stopped, looking at Trip as if he was glass and would brake at what he said next.  
  
"I haven't fallen back into old habits?" Trip finished for him. He gave a yawn, rolling his head on his shoulders.  
  
"Fair enough. Anything else?"  
  
"Yes." Archer hesitated again, he didn't want to include this condition but Starfleet had overruled him. They had said it was something Trip needed to do.  
  
"No one on the ship knows the full story of what happened to you excluding myself, Dr. Phlox and of course Malcolm. T'Pol knows a little, but not much, as does Hoshi. Starfleet want... they want you to talk to someone in your own words about what happened. Someone who doesn't know the whole story."  
  
"They want me to tell a friend, to get me to admit it." Trip said, his mind already working out what Archer was getting at. Instead of the rage followed by the fear - the response he expected to feel Trip only felt warmth, a feeling that increased at the thought of spending time with T'Pol.  
  
~~~  
  
Malcolm would be okay. Already the memories had begun to fade. The human mind was not designed to cope with the experiences of more than one person and the images, thoughts and memories of Charles Sr were slowly but surly being pushed out.  
  
Soon the dreams would stop completely, the one's that made Malcolm scream. Soon everything that had happened would be as if he had read it in a book.  
  
Malcolm was going to be okay.  
  
~~~  
  
It was funny mused Trip, some time later after he had left Archer, that T'Pol was the first one who had come to mind. It wasn't even that, he had just automatically chosen T'Pol as the one to tell. There had never been any choice in his mind and he wondered if he would have deiced to tell her even if he had a choice.   
  
Somehow he thought he would.  
  
He smiled, imaging the dinner he was going to prepare for T'Pol before telling her. It would vegetarian, with Pecan Pie for dessert. That was assuming of course, that T'Pol said yes to the dinner date for that's what is was really. For some reason Trip knew she would accept his invitation.  
  
He crossed the floor to his bathroom and pulled out a razor. He stared at it, an odd smile on his face before letting it fall to the bin on the floor. He didn't think he was going to need that anymore. Trip moved over to the sink and began to wash his face, thinking of the evening ahead with T'Pol. Life wasn't perfect for the blonde engineer but it was okay.  
  
In the bin, the razor glittered, it's call of steel forever silenced.  
  
~The End~  
  
There you have it. The end. Was it any good? Overall thoughts?   
  
Thank you so much for reading.  
  
~Sethoz. 


End file.
